Curse of the Ancients: Book One
by RaeC
Summary: SLASH: Highlander/Stargate - Daniel finds a strange book at a dig in Eygpt while at the SGC all hell is breaking loose.
1. When Dreams Are Not Enough

~~0~~ 

Simple Need 

Chapter One: When Dreams Are Not Enough

Daniel

by Rae C.

~~-~~ 

The light fades, a brilliant lightening strike that flash-pans and becomes a blackened patch upon the ground. One single life, in the grand scheme of things; a split second of pure white glowing, then exploding into dust. It's an end to a chapter of your life and you are that much darker for it, having known and lost. A bitter pill taken with alcohol to drown out the singed edges from living too close. Sharing their breath, discovering their unique musky scent, delving into the tangy ambrosia of hidden crevices... their mark burned into your skin never fading with the passage of years. 

There are those to whom you are close, who you call friend. And there are those whom you would be lovers. Then there are those who you have already loved, and many others yet waiting in the wings. All of them vying for your attention, waiting for their chance to live in your light, content to live in the shadowed fringe of your heart. You share what you can with each, beckoning the inferno closer, knowing the flames will scar as you share yourself with too many. And not enough of who you truly are to any one single person.

And then there is the One. 

One person for whom you would give all, the one who *owns* you, body and soul. And they did nothing but smile, pat you on the back, or something else similarly inconsequential. It was one recognizing one, aching to become one half of a whole. To live in their essence, not merely be ornamentation, but to be a part of how they define themselves. 

Yetit can never be.

Too many mistakes, too many missed chances. Stretched too far, too thin, given over to guilt for responsibilities gathered at the beginning. A pledge spoken to save face for her, in the tribe, in the community. A love given half hearted. Then you found a part of yourself, and you held back, afraid. Now, it's too late, for shame has found refuge in your heart. Too late, too late, too late.

~~~

I see him there as I lie on the ground saying goodbye to the last of my regrets. It is to him that I reach rather than her, and still I can see the beginning of the end. He has finally pulled too far away for me to reach.  
  
Why? Why now when this chapter of my life has finally reached an end? I wanted black and white, yet all I can see is gray. I reach out, touching my fingers to her still lips and breathe the words....'I loved you too.'  
  
It's not enough, but it will have to do. Goodbyes have never been my thing. And yet with those four simple words, I have said goodbye to both of them. One my wife, and the other....the lover I wanted but never had. I can at least close this chapter of my life. The severing of limbs can wait.

It was perfect. A perfect moment to make all those little innocent connections. Closing one past to gain a future, only I realized that future could never be. Great, just great. I can pant, want, basically throw myself at the man and it wouldn't make a difference. It would all be passed off as some lame attempt to connect to life after my *loss*.  
  
A string of pearls held together with spit and a prayer. Ha! One string, held taut, made of tiny bits of sand and saliva rolled endlessly over a tongue. Amazing, that such beauty could come from something that is merely irritation. Why can't I be the pearl here, just once? 

He walked away, leaving me alone. His heart closing with each step. I could see the light fading as he turned away. What did I have left? Nothing really.   
  
Goodbye. Gods, I hated that word.   
  
I picked myself up off the ground and left the tent behind. The SGC waited for me beyond the silver blue walls of the open Stargate. Where I would go from there, I didn't know.

His heart was closed, yet I still sought to be close to him. Gruff, ready always to play, but the walls were too high and the way through them bound heavily in grief, pain, and too many years of living at the edge. A warrior awaiting his shield, so that his walls could come down. He only allowed me so close, always putting space between us, an invisible line he dared not to cross. 

I played with fire every day, standing this close. Warm heat swirled around me, wrapping me in a blissful cocoon of contentment. I could live like this for years on end, if only I knew that I had anything to hold onto, a smile, a word of praise. It wouldn't take much...some small token of recognition that he accepted me. My needs have lessened over the years. 

And yet, I've lost too much to stay. 

Illusion never changed into something real. How apropos. A dream then, one that would never be. 

How do I walk way from this? How can I shut the door and banish the need? It would be easier to ask my heart to stop beating.  
  
I laughed. It's hopeless. There's no room left at the inn.  
  
I wanted to let go of the tight leash in which my emotions are contained. But right here, right now, in this space and time, watching him watch me, I *know* I can't.   
  
"Jack?"

Those dark orbs swirled with emotions I couldn't name as he waited for me to continue. It's almost as if he knows what was coming next....  
  
"I'm leaving."

I was right. He shut down, the world cut off from him. I had expected it, yet it still hurt.   
  
"What? You need a couple of weeks off? Take em, Daniel."

"No, Jack. I'm leaving the SGC. I can't stay here anymore. I just....."  
  
I couldn't say it. But I had to. I have to close this part of my life as well.   
  
Taking a deep breath, I just spit it out.   
  
"I just wanted to say goodbye."  
  
There, it was out. I look right at him waiting for something, some sign, a token that he needed me.  
  
"Look, Daniel. Why don't you take a few weeks off? Think about it."  
  
"I have, Jack. There's nothing left for me here."  
  
"But what about the kid?"  
  
"You'll find him, Jack. You know as much as I do."  
  
"But, Sha're..."  
  
"Sha're is dead." I cut him off. I didn't want to hear the rest. He flinched at my harsh words, but I couldn't help hurtling them out there. He didn't say anything after that.   
  
"Goodbye, Jack." And with my heart breaking, I left his office.

Right now I wanted so much for Sha're to be alive. To see her there, or at least to have that hope. With her alive I could live with the guilt of loving someone else. I could hide behind the curtain of displaced need. With her alive, at least I had the hope of Jack someday loving me back. But that's all gone now....like everything else. 

Yes, Sha're was dead and I would miss her. I would miss her smile, her laugh, and the gentle manner in which she invaded my life. Her capture by the Gou'ald was the reason I had joined the SGC in first place. But Jack had been the reason I had stayed. 

I took one last look at the mountain before me and said my last 'Goodbye'.

~~~

Sometimes the soul can need so much that it becomes lost, drown beneath layers and layers of things taken away. The mind builds and builds and builds, frantically trying to protect a fragile being that lies bleeding upon the hearth. You need to be touched, to know you are alive. You need that time to submerge yourself in another being, to give, to receive, to *feel*.

It's a delicate balance of reaching out, and reeling in. A tight rope stretched between two beings that pulls, prods, and connects them. Seeking to create a union that forged in the heat of molten steel will stand against the cosmic waves of time.

Karma, kismet, whatever you call it, the blade is still as sharp. Its edge finely honed, awaiting the first pale drop of blood so that it can be sheathed. One test of many gifted by the Lady Fate. Wait too long and she withdraws her approval.

Sometimes, when dreams are not enough, all you can do is walk away and pretend that you live. 


	2. Don't Look Up

~~0~~

Chapter Two: Don't Look Up

~~-~~

"Dr. Jackson!" 

The call pulled Daniel back from the lost edges of memory to the present. The quiet evening sounds penetrated his senses as the moment was broken, casting the last vestiges of remembrance into tiny shards of dust. He cast about for the source of the voice to see Adam Pierson standing about 100 yards away. 'Ah, the grad student from Paris.' 

"Dr. Jackson?" 

"Yes?" 

"Mind if I join you?" The low pitch, reminiscent of want and need, dropped like water into the throat of a thirsting man. The tone, the inflection, the words themselves sent forbidden promises straight to his groin. The man merely stood there awaiting his answer, bottled water held carelessly in his hand, neither sensing the effect of his words on Daniel, nor seeming to care if he did. 

"No, come on up." Daniel cleared the husky overtones from his voice as he watched the man climb up the dune and sprawl in a boneless heap next to him. Adam had been with the group for almost six months now, long enough to know Daniel spent most of his evenings here, frequently joining him when allowed. His silent offering of companionship was rarely turned down, and with increasing frequency turned straight to lust. What was this indefineable something that this man carried with him? That thing which drew Daniel from his mind, and his heart, to desire another? That something, which promised nothing, gave nothing, simply existed to fill an aching void....

Methos watched the play of emotion run over Daniel's face from the corner of his eye, knowing the man was trying yet again to figure him out. The casual touches in the trenches of the dig. The almost constant nearness. The evenings spent laughing or playing cards, chess. They amounted to a burgeoning friendship, one he allowed himself to indulge in. Now though, he sensed the growing need for something more.  
  
He didn't fool himself into thinking there was an emotional bond forming. This was basic lust at work, but he was definitely okay with that. A fling, something both of them could enjoy and walk away from. Minds and hearts intact. No strings, no commitments. He wasn't ready for one, and he *knew* Jackson wasn't either. He'd spent too many a night awash in his own memories not to notice the signs of regret, of things left behind. Simple really, when one considered that that was why he was out here digging up pieces of his past in the first place. He was here to settle recent memories; to forget, just as Daniel was.  
  
He allowed a small caustic smile to flirt at the corners of his lips. Time to test some limits. Lifting the bottle of water haphazardly to his mouth, he drank. 

"Want some?" Methos tossed the comment out, drawing Daniel's attention from the setting sun to his face.

"Ah, no thanks." Daniel's voice fell back into the familiar rythyms of desire as he disregarded the offered drink proffered by his companion. His eyes remained drawn to Adam's face even though the man had already turned away, Daniel's attention fixed on the moisture collected at the corner of Adam's mouth.  
  
The errant drop of water slipped out the corner of Adam's mouth, hanging on his chin for just a second. It fell to the ground, tumbling and twisting, the sand hungrily devouring the priceless moisture the instant it hit. Daniel slipped his hand into the soft, fine silt wistfully; dreaming of tracing the path the drop had taken. Tasting the salty texture of Adam's skin. Feeling the rough stubble as it slid against his lips, over his tongue, and at last capturing Adam's lips for his own. 'God, how he craved to be that water.' Craved being allowed to touch, feel, and soothe Adam's parched throat.  
  
Hurriedly he looked away, embarrassed at his prolonged study of the simple act of drinking. He didn't need Adam to see how envious he was of that tiny nodule of liquid; *it* being allowed the freedom to roam at will over the smooth planes should *it* so desire. The same smooth planes he fantasised nightly about.  
  
"Damn, it's been too long."  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Oh, sorry Adam, thinking out loud."  
  
"Anything in particular?" The slight hint of amusement coating his words drew Daniel's gaze back to Adam's face. Adam took another swig of the water, his throat working, draining the liquid into his body with a slow sucking motion. Daniel was unconsciously drawn to watch as yet again, the refreshment was allowed the pleasure of touching those rich lips that craved to be plundered. The drowsy sensual motion of swallowing reminded him sharply of more carnal acts. Coulor flooded his cheeks, as Daniel grasped an elusive image of those lips enveloping his organ, and plunging down to the root.  
  
"Ah - no - nothing. I - ah - I just need a shower. It's been so long since I've had a shower....I feel... like one big piece of....sandpaper...." Daniel finished lamely, casting an apologetic glance toward his companion as he hurried off. The sound of Adam's delighted laughter drifted down the dune after him.  
  
"Hey! Wait for me. You'll need someone to wash your back."  
  
'Oh geez...'  
  
Regardless of the fact that having someone to help with washing would be nice, Daniel knew he wouldn't be able to stand such close proximity to Adam's nude body without further embarrassing himself. It was difficult enough to keep his libido under control when he was around Adam, and after that little scene on the dune, there would be absolutely no way to hide the tell-tale signs. Daniel pushed his glasses back up on his nose, nervously watching as the man in question loped down the hill.  
  
'What do I do now?' The self recrimination must have been written across his face, because Adam playfully pushed him toward the shower with an offhanded, "Come on, I won't bite. Not unless you want me to."  
  
Chuckling at his own joke, Methos slid languidly past Daniel to sit on the nearby bench, and started to shuck his boots. His corded muscles rippled across his well-formed back with quick, efficient movements, and Daniel swallowed painfully at the sight. Adam's skin had picked up a light blush from spending hours in the sun, yet he hadn't once complained. The enhanced colouring only accentuated the pull and release of his muscles as they worked in tandem with his arms.  
  
Freeing his feet from the offending footwear and accompanying socks, Methos wiggled his toes in the dry, desert ground.  
  
"That feels so good. I've been wanting to get out of those bloody things all day." The lyrical sound of Adam's voice washed over Daniel in a symphony of lust. The soft tones spread into his hastily overloaded system, and sent an ache straight to his groin.  
  
Methos unfurled, loosening the various kinks that stooping all day in the blistering sun had created in his lithe frame. He had started to unbutton his shorts when he noticed Daniel hadn't moved from his spot in the doorway of the showering stall. "Are you going to stand there all day lost in thought, or get into the shower?"  
  
"Shower!" came out in a pitiful squeak, as Daniel finally released the breath he had inhaled when Adam stretched. He turned his head away from the man just as he resumed unbuttoning his shorts. Daniel heard the clothing slide down Adam's legs and hit the ground while he was removing his own footwear.  
  
It was a mistake to look up.


	3. Who I Am

~~0~~

Chapter Three: Who I Am

Methos

~~-~~

She flies on wings of purest ebony night, sipping the bitter nectar from the cup of tempered dreams. She slips through the eve, seeking out those who would feed her. Devouring their illusions, she leaves a fool's whimsy behind. Angel or demon? Savior or Foe? It depends on whom would speak; those who can forget or those left behind...shattered. 

White washed, you slip the simple fantasies inside their protective covers, saved for a time when the pain won't be as strong. When memory can be ambrosia, instead of the burning ember lodged far within your chest. The swathe of ashes swept daily to leave the torn vessel clean, empty. A Pandora's box, its lid lifted to reveal that even Hope has gone.

Whom can you blame? Them? Or yourself? A chasm so wide, it was not until the end that you realized how deep the betrayal went. Your illusion shattered with words instead of sword. To save some portion of yourself, you say enough and simply walk away.

~~~

'Two years, as of today.'

I marked the date, today just as every other, only this time in red. It deserved special recognition. In memoriam to my most recent folly. A habit I started the day Duncan walked away. When the fog enveloped him into its folds and the buzz faded; the last touch of his mind to mine. 

I'd hidden myself from the world until he had come along, drawing me from the blank prison of existance, to feel, ... to *breathe*. The fire for life rekindled with his passion, his honor, and his willingness to be my friend. He knew nothing about me, yet accepted me into the fold of his life. It was a gift, the first spark. 

All lost in one moment of tactless platitudes.

"I don't know who or what you are Methos..." His voice rumbled through my mind. A perfect rendition of the first time I heard those fateful words. Four years he'd known me and still I had something left to prove, to give, some piece hidden in the shadows. 

Too bad you walked away first. 

"...but you have taught me something..." 

But not what I wanted. Not what I needed. 

His face was so serious, trying hard to put to words what I meant to him. My goodbye speech a pale imitation of those he gave to the others'. His recognition of their place in his life and what they meant to him. And I get this barren placard, sported by the cameraman for him to read. An empty, prettily spouted speech.

As empty as I felt. The bottle in my hands was nearly forgotten as I struggled internally to show yet one more mask to the world. A smirk reached my lips against my better wishes, but fortunately he mistook it for something else. A smile he mistook as confirmation that he would never know me. Still he pattered on.

I was blind, yet again. It could have been worse. I could have hung about for 1000 years before I finally came to my senses, traipsing about the globe in decadent madness. Or I could have simply hung about until the demons who chased The Highland Son caught me instead. And then I would be dead, never knowing that I'd not held a place in his life. 

"You've taught me that life is about change..."

What if I needed one thing to stay the same? What if I don't want us to change? Or better yet to change into something more?

'Damn it, Duncan. If you were going to say goodbye, couldn't you at least have known who I am? Known me?'

'I would have given up forever to touch you.'

~~~

Fate....she is a beguiling temptress. She beckons with false hope, bringing longing forth from her breast with nothing more than a wish. How can one resist the cry of the siren when she sings, offering you your fondest dream? You can't, especially when denial has been your friend for so long. Touch forbidden. Passion mere seconds against the span of years. Desire inflamed through frequent contact. 

Deeply you breathe. You fall into the call, lost to the world. Living for nothing but this dream which stirs the wanton beast that lurks within. Its heady musk perfumes the air, whetting the palate...seeking admittance to the dark recesses within. Presence wafting across your skin as night falls, sleep the furthest thing from your mind as you thrust on the bed yet again. Your body hair standing straight up signaling the first of spark of release. The tremors begin low in your belly, shooting through your spine sending a hollow burst of half-fulfilled need to your brain and you lay panting, waiting for your body to calm, waiting to assuage the hunger yet again.

And you know as you lay there, that only one thing can relive the urge...the one you left behind. Or maybe they left you. The one person who had you waking from your dreams drenched in sweat, aching with blatant regret. But you go on, walking through your day as if no one can touch you. Letting the dreams sleep...as you sleep walk through life...until something or someone once again sparks the wanting.


	4. Indulgence

~~0~~

Chapter Four: Indulgence

~~-~~

Adam slinked toward the shower stall, a primitive animal in his prime, all sleek muscle and dusky skin. 'God, he gets more beautiful every time I see him.' Daniel lowered his eyes immediately, as Adam turned on the shower spray. 'I can't do this!' his mind screamed.  
  
"Daniel, what's taking you so long?"  
  
"Nothing. Knot in my boot."  
  
'Another lame excuse chirped out in the voice of a thirteen year old.' Daniel was getting very efficient at berating himself. 'Would this never end?' He quickly removed his own shorts, placed his glasses on them and headed toward the shower spray. He turned it on, careful to keep his back towards Adam at all times; his erection would be painfully clear should Adam chose to look over.  
  
Daniel heard the water shutting off from Adam's side of the stall, indicating he had finished rinsing the day's grime off of himself. He trembled, imagining the feel of that slick skin under his hands. The sun-warmed liquid spraying over him did little to cool the ever rising heat spreading throughout his body. And the small moans of pleasure as Adam washed himself didn't help either. He pressed his head against the wooden planks of the stall, his chest heaving as he strove to control his breathing. To the casual observer, it would appear as if Daniel was just enjoying a second of pure bliss as the water rushed over his back.  
  
He nearly jumped out of his skin when Adam purred into his ear.  
  
"You wash my back, I'll wash yours."  
  
Daniel turned his head. Bits of soap layered what areas of Adam's skin that he could see.  
  
"Ah - sure. Turn around." He turned off the spray, not intending to waste the water soaking rapidly into the parched soil underneath the raised planks of the shower floor.  
  
'Please, please, please turn around.' He chanted to himself, over and over again. With an enigmatic look, Adam pivoted on his heel and tossed the rag over his shoulder. Daniel grasped the soapy cloth, trying yet again to still his rioting emotions. Keeping as careful a distance as he could, he lathed the rag over Adam's back, scrubbing and massaging at the same time.  
  
"Um, that feels good. You've got nice hands, Daniel." Heat poured through the cloth into Daniel's hand, rushing into his system like a pile driver. Desire spiked, his erection pulsing in time with his movements.  
  
Daniel thoroughly covered Adam's back with soap, each stroke driving his desire higher and higher. He had this delicious man in his grasp. Had his skin underneath his hand. Daniel couldn't resist adding a second hand to the mix, hoping against hope that Adam wouldn't notice as he gave into the urge to feel him.  
  
"Oh yeah! Right there!" Encouraged by the wanton thing writhing beneath the sure strokes of his hands, Daniel pressed his thumbs deeper into Adam's back, massaging from the base of his spine to his neck. "Oh yes."  
  
'Oh God, those moans were going to drive him crazy.' It was time to end this before he did anything really stupid. "All done - Better?"  
  
"Not quite." Gritty tones warned Daniel that he had missed an important detail; Adam had turned around. Daniel, distracted by Adam's groans and the lust flooding his body, hadn't noticed until it was too late. His eyes closed, and the world gleefully crashed around him. 'Oh damn, damn, damn!'  
  
"My turn." The effort was still there in Adam's voice, the words themselves making Daniel's eyes flood open in shock. "You could tempt a saint Dr. Jackson, and I most certainly am *not* a saint." Bruising pressure descended on his lips, pressing their point home. Strong hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him in, wrapping him up in silky heat, suffocating his senses with touch, taste, smell and sound; the sound of his own throat keening in rapt indulgence.  
  
Not one to sit idly by while he was being offered Adam on a silver platter, Daniel thrust his body against Adam's, feeling his own wants and need return. Hands no longer required to remain stiffly by his sides grabbed Adam's head in a firm grip, and he ran his tongue along the edges of Adam's lips, demanding entrance. Gratefully, Daniel drank deeply, thrusting his tongue deep within the welcoming warmth of Adam's mouth, twining his with Adam's, then capturing Adam's tongue between his teeth, and gently sucking.  
  
Adam tasted of the desert, the sun, and some obscure spice that he couldn't immediately peg. There was a brief moment of struggle as each man warred with the other, seeking to dominate the encounter. Equal in size and strength, it wasn't long before they shared in the joining of mouths, pulling slightly back. Adam's lips became a caress, instead of devouring. Daniel relaxed his hold on Adam's head, running his hand along Adam's coarse jaw line.  
  
Sweat from both men mixed with the soap coating Adam's skin, providing lubrication for their thrusting hips. Daniel ground his groin against Adam's, rubbing his straining member along the silky hardness of his partner's. Daniel could no longer tell which moans were his and which belonged to Adam, so skilfully did they blend. His hands ran over Adam's chest, barely skimming the top of his nipple. The sudden hiss of breath signalled that Daniel was on the right track. He deepened the kiss allowing his palm to roll over Adam's susceptible chest yet again. Adam drove himself into Daniel's hand in quest of firmer contact, wanting more.  
  
Daniel gave it to him. Grasping his sensitive nub between his fingers, Daniel twisted, pulled, and stroked. Adam squirmed beneath the assault, groaning from deep in his chest. Gasping, Adam pulled his mouth from Daniel's and arched his neck back in pure sensual pleasure. Taking advantage of his skin so delicately offered, Daniel dipped in to suckle at the curve, marking the area with a tiny red spot. He lapped at his brand, alternately kissing, nipping and suckling again. 

Methos was holding onto Daniel for all that he was worth. His fingers dug deeply into Daniel's shoulders, as his tongue and mouth both gave and took pleasure. The soap was starting to dry on his skin. He had to rinse off before this went any further. Soap was not a pleasant taste and he wanted nothing to ruin this moment, now that he had finally manoeuvred the good doctor right into his arms.  
  
"Daniel - Daniel?"  
  
"What?" came the happily muffled response.  
  
"Come under the shower with me."  
  
"I'm already wet."  
  
"Yeah, and soapy. So am I. I want to taste *you*, not your favourite brand of soap." His surrender was in his voice, promising all sorts of sensual delights yet to come. It didn't take much to drag the archaeologist into the spray, and very little to start his hands roaming again.  
  
Gently, Daniel ran his hands over Adam's body, working the drying soap back into a lather to be sluiced off in the running water. He ran his hands over Adam's firm shoulders, feeling the suppressed power in the limbs. 

Methos shivered yet again when Daniel's hands dropped to his chest. Growling, he clutched frantically at the wall behind him as Daniel's hands slipped lower still and brushed against the top of his coarse pubic hair. 'Gods, but the boy did know what he was doing.'

Daniel stopped the advance of his hands, feeling Adam quake beneath his fingers. It was so addictive to have this power. He pulled in a shuddering breath, stealing himself against the powerful aphrodisiac. He had hungered after this man for months. A simple need which begged for release. He would *not* rush this. Dragging his rioting body under control, Daniel spread his palm flat against Adam's abdomen, kneading the ridged plane contracted with desire. His other hand slipped down and grasped a firm buttock, giving it a gentle squeeze before Daniel resumed stroking the soft skin beneath his questing hands.  
  
The water ran in rivulets over his face as Daniel tilted his head to seize one small nub in his teeth. Alternately nibbling and sucking, he lavished the captured nipple with attention, his tongue teasing Adam's sensitized flesh. His hands continued stroking the heated skin beneath his fingers, all evidence of the soap gone. His own body had long since lost what ever trace of soap remained, and only the man writhing in ecstasy under his careful ministrations kept him in the cooling spray.  
  
A noise from outside the tent caused both men to jump, reality bursting into the little bubble of seductive pleasure.  
  
"Adam?" a tentative brush of lips.  
  
"What?" ground out between clenched teeth.  
  
"I can't do this."


	5. Full Circle

~~0~~

Chapter Five: Full Circle

Jack

~~-~~

Sometimes life can play cruel tricks on you. One minute you are sipping Pina Colodas in the sun and the next standing in the wake of a storm. You think everything is 'okay'. That you've got your act together. Then something reaches out from beyond to grab you by the balls and shake you up all over again. 

There you are, minding your own business, and a particular glance or gesture will trigger them off. A smell, a taste, or maybe it is a name, whatever; that's all the images need to come tumbling forth. And you are forced to slip behind the walls of rapid speech or misdirection, seeking a way to head off the impending descent into madness. You cradle the familiar pain of needs denied deep inside. Pretend the world didn't just shift on its axis and you are now falling on your ass. 

Life goes on. And you do too. But what you wouldn't give to forget. To forget where you are, what you know, and just go on to the next mission, the next battle, the next planet, empty of feeling, of regret. Forget that you let something wonderful slip away because you were afraid. 

Too afraid to say don't go.

~~~

The simple phone call to the General ended rather abruptly, his tone harsh, demanding. 'My office, now.' I had work to do damn it. Couldn't this wait? I hadn't been back from the mission for ten minutes when the Airman arrived at my door nearly out of breath. An escort?. Like I could get lost. 

"Sir, the General?"

"Yeah, Yeah, I'm coming." What had I done now? I slammed the handset down and I followed the nervous man towards the Briefing Room, all the while going over the last mission. Was there something I missed? The halls were filled with people rushing about like chickens with their heads cut off. Oh yeah, the General was on a tear this time. 

I stopped in the middle of the corridor, people passing by me as if I was a boulder in a stream. "What's going on?"

"I have no idea, Sir. If you would follow me please?" A note of desperation crept into his voice. The poor boy wrung his hands as if that would somehow get me moving. A medical team with a full bodybag passed right in front of us, the Airman paling at the sight. 

'Oh shit!' Whatever it was, it was something big. For the first time I hurried, leaving the young enlisted man standing alone. 

"Colonel, I need you on a plane within the hour." 

"Sir?" 

"SG-3 just reported back. We have a situation." 

"No, we have dead bodies." Sarcasm was my main standby in any situation and it didn't fail me now. 

"We've lost three members of SG-3 and SG-9 within the last twelve hours to 'something' on PX395G4. We can't even get close enough to find out what it is." Robert Rothman rushed into the office his arms filled with files and papers, my errant Airman hot on his heels. 

Setting the haphazard pile on the General's desk, Rothman pulled sheets from his stack and handed several to the General. The General glanced briefly at Rothman before signaling the Airman out yet again.

"Get Major Carter in here!"

"The plane?" I reminded the General, getting him back on track. Where the hell was all of this going?

"We need Dr. Jackson and you are going to go get him." An errand boy? I'm an errand boy now? It's not enough that Daniel walks out of here, I've got to go collect him? My breath rushed out all at once. I felt as if I had just been punched in the gut. 

"But what does this have to do with Daniel? Wonder Boy here can't handle it?" Real smooth, Jack. Way to keep your cool. 

Annoyed, the General just gave me one of his patented don't go there looks. "No, I need you and Major Carter to bring him back. You two are the only ones who can. Don't forget the book." 

"Book, Sir?" Okay, now I was really confused. First, I'm being sent off halfway around the globe to *fetch* an errant Archaeologist who doesn't want to be here, and now I'm playing librarian. The General was not the only one who was annoyed.

"This book." Rothman shoved a newspaper clipping into my hand. There was Daniel, proud as a peacock, carefully cradling a black book in his hand. He looked good, tanned, a big grin plastered across his face. Nothing on but a pair of ragged old shorts. 

"What's this?" I asked waving the newsprint in Rothman's direction. 

"That book is the reason you are bringing Dr. Jackson back here. See the symbol on the cover? Now look at these pictures I brought back..." It must be contagious; this 'dog with a bone' syndrome. Carter had it. Rothman had it. Even Daniel. They get all excited, non-stop talking, waving their hands all over the place, and never let up until you knew every detail down to the finest grain of sand. 

I cut in before this tangent went on forever. "Same thing. So?"

"Look closer, Colonel. They are not only the same design, but the same color. Blue. And this book is the find of the century; A book. Written in Latin. Over 5000 years old. Found in Egypt." And this means what? Where's Daniel when you need him?

"Let me guess...." The light bulb clicked on. 

Another voice chorused with mine. "Latin didn't exist." General Hammond leaned back in his chair, the first happy expression I'd seen since I waltzed in here. We'd finally gotten to the point. 

"So what does this book have to do with..." I tossed my thumb over my shoulder toward the Gate.

The General lost whatever calm he'd had a moment ago. Back to the business at hand. 

"Do whatever you have to, Colonel, just get Dr. Jackson. Contact the Embassy, have them pull his passport. Drag Rothman here along, if you think it's necessary. I want Dr. Jackson in this office within 48 hours." 

"But..." 

"No buts, Colonel. We *need* Jackson on this one. And we need that book before even more of my men die." 

Carter would chose that moment to enter the office, full steam ahead. She skidded to a halt at the General's words, shock running across her face.

"Colonel?"

"Pack it in, Major." Rising to my feet, I grabbed her shoulder steering her toward the door. "We're going to get Daniel." 

I sighed. Why is it every time someone mentions Daniel's name, it immediately triggers a huge grin? 

'Am I the only one who sees a problem here?'

A premonition ran straight up my back. What if Daniel doesn't want to come back? What if he likes what he is doing now? What if he's found...? I turned off my thoughts. No use worrying about it. 

'I'm just fucked. Two ways from Sunday.'

~~~

There is a face that you show the world, and yet another you save for when you are alone. When you let loose your innermost thoughts; those thoughts that you can't let anyone else see. Hold them high, let the light hit, and then display all the hidden bits. You surround yourself with your memories, your hopes, fantasies. You are alone in this room, sitting in your favourite chair caught in a web of a thousand hues. 

It's a nice place to be. Not real, but nice. 

And you know it can never be reality. A house of cards that trembles under its own weight. Constantly, you shift pieces, adding more and more, until they've all been lined up just so. Then a wind comes along ripping one piece from the whole, bringing the whole kit and caboodle collapsing down around your feet. You are left with scattered kings laying at your feet to be picked up, and a new house must be built...or....you just have to put the whole deck away, Ace High.

You never knew what you had until you lost it, and then you wake up, right back where you started from....Full Circle.


	6. Assuaged

~~0~~

Chapter Six: Assuaged

~~-~~

Adam's hazel eyes drilled into his azure ones, looking for answers.  
  
"Not here."  
  
Adam sagged in relief against the wooden plank, understanding dawning.  
  
"Where?"  
  
"My tent."  
  
Hastily, they both grabbed for towels left on the shelf and wrapped them around their waists. Methos grabbed Daniel's hand, dragging the man out the door.  
  
"Wait!"  
  
"What now?" Methos was getting extremely impatient. His blood was on fire, scalding to the point of pain. He'd been waiting for six months for Daniel to make a move. He was tired of waiting.  
  
"I need my glasses."  
  
"Oh." Methos let him go. Daniel snatched the pile of clothing from the bench, his and Methos'. He put on his glasses, and shifted the clothing to one arm. Then throwing Methos off balance, Daniel grabbed his hand and drug him off to his tent.  
  
Tossing the dirty laundry in the corner and putting his glasses on the small table next to the bed, Daniel dropped all pretence of modesty. The towel fell to the floor. Adam smiled and let his follow suit.  
  
"You know, in the morning you might regret this?"  
  
"Right now, I don't care. I want you."  
  
Methos gave up arguing, took the foolish mortal's face in his hands and kissed him deeply. Lord the boy was intoxicating. He didn't mind, really. Not in the slightest. Not when he could drink from the innocence that coated Daniel's aura. When it was given so willingly, so effortlessly. Young, but certainly not inexperienced. Oh no, not at all.  
  
The man in question was running his palms over Adam's chest, waiting to hear him moan again. Wanting to hear that deep, silky voice wash over him like a primal symphony. He was not disappointed. Adam groaned deep within his chest and Daniel pressed his body against him, the combination of sound, taste, and touch, vibrating over emotionally starved senses. Human touch: a very simple, very basic need.  
  
Methos pushed the willing man on to the bed. It was functional, as everything in camp seemed to be, but Daniel's was a bit larger than normal. Not just a tuck and fold cot, but a sturdy metal frame with a full sized mattress. Large enough for two to comfortably spend the night. 'Daniel enjoyed his creature comforts,' Methos thought to himself. He followed Daniel down onto the bed not wanting to release this drug pounding through his veins. 

Clasping Daniel's hands within his own, Methos drew them up behind his head, secured in a firm grip. He wanted to just taste, kiss and suckle this magnificent creature without the distraction of Daniel's fingers feathering over his body. Time enough for that later.  
  
Methos brushed down the full length of Daniel's body, mapping his skin. The silky glide of his bare chest gave way to pebbled nipples instantly hardening beneath his palm. Slipping his hand lower, Methos felt Daniel tense, his breath hitch. Lazily, he circled his finger around the rim of Daniel's bellybutton. Followed the babyfine hairs down into the coarser territory of his groin. 

As Adam threaded his fingers into the thatch, Daniel trembled beneath his touch. He thrust up from the bed seeking more contact. He tried to draw closer to Adam. His panting groans filled the small space. He wanted the heat, needed the contact, wanted more. His desire spiked sending the scent of fresh musk into the air. Adam finally relented and molded his frame to Daniel, grinding their erections together. His lips sought the curve of Daniel's neck, nibbling, sucking, his tongue teasing the abused flesh. 

"Oh gods, yes..." Methos purred. Heated flesh slid against heated flesh. Sweat coated stomachs provided the perfect lubricant, slowly gliding together. Methos kept the pressure on. He was nearing the edge, but wasn't ready yet to fall over that precipice. He needed it to last just a little bit longer. 

"I want you in me." Daniel panted, his hands still trapped within Adam's.

"Are you sure?" Methos pulled back looking for confirmation in those startling deep blue eyes. He released Daniel's hands, instead choosing to hold the shaking archeologist's head still. He ran his thumbs along Daniel's cheekbones, tracing the firm bones up into the long brown hair. 

"Yes! I'm sure!" Oh Daniel was positive. The sense memory of a time past raced along his pulse, pounding deep in his veins. "Yes..."

Methos rolled Daniel onto his side. 

"Where do you..?"

"Look in the trunk. On the left."

"Be right back." Methos placed a kiss on a bare shoulder, caressing up Daniel's muscular arm as he rose from the bed. Opening the trunk, he found lubricant and condoms in the tray. Shutting the lid, he slinked back into the bed spooning himself around Daniel. 

"Last chance." He murmured. 

Adam licked along the curve of his neck again sending delicious shudders racing up and down his back. 'Back out now? Not in this lifetime!' Daniel turned his head and kissed Adam full on the lips. His tongue snaked a path along Adam's sensual lips, memorizing taste and texture. He followed the sweet coffee-laced trail straight into the heated depths of Adam's mouth. Tongues dueling, Daniel grabbed the lube from Adam, opened it and let some of the cool liquid spill onto Adam's fingers. 

Taking his cue from Daniel, Adam slid his coated fingers between the muscled flanks. Daniel tensed slightly as the cool liquid hit his heated backside, Adam's long slender fingers following the cleft in-between. 'Oh god. Yes!' 

Breaking away from Adam's talented mouth, Daniel's head fell to the pillow. Shallow gasps fell from his lips as Adam first traced the entrance to his body, then carefully inserted one finger. Pulling back, he encircled the puckered opening again and slipped his finger back in, pulsing several times. 

"More lube." Daniel complied with his low command and squeezed more into his hand. He carefully re-inserted his finger, rotating around in Daniel's tight channel, and gradually increased pressure against the walls. The tight ring of muscle slowly relaxed allowing Methos increasing access. His own breathing was becoming heated, panting in time with Daniel. 'Gods, he was tight.'

"Been a while?"

"A little."

Adam's husky chuckle tickled his ear causing Daniel to snicker as well. It had been a while...around four-five years. His breath caught; Adam had added another finger, easily sliding them in and out. The urge was building for more, faster, and harder. He pushed back against Adam's fingers, picking up the rhythm with ease. 

"We need a bit more lube." Lube was immediate squeezed onto his hand and Methos added a third finger, carefully preparing Daniel. He'd been keeping a tight reign on himself, but his cock was aching with suppressed need. Visions of being buried within Daniel, in that hot, firm, wet passage nearly made him come right then.   
  
"Ready?"  
  
"Yes...."   
  
Methos barely heard the breathy answer. He grabbed the condom from where he'd dropped it on the bed earlier, opened it and rolled it down. Daniel was ready with the lube again, adding a generous amount which Methos laved over the latex. 

Daniel tossed the tube on the table within easy reach should they need it. Adam shifted, turning Daniel over and onto his knees. Hard hands smoothed over his back, pushing Daniel's head lower towards the bed. He felt Adam's thighs tremble as he moved closer, positioning himself. 

"Breathe.." With the first inhaled breath, Methos pushed in slowly, savoring every pulse of the tight, hot channel against his sensitive erection. Daniel reached down for his own, only to have Methos' stop him. 

"No," came the huskily whispered command.

"God, Adam! Please!"

"No. Just feel."

And Daniel felt. He felt his body adjusting easily to the slow, unadulterated taking. Felt the building spasms of overly responsive nerves blaze with ecstasy as Adam continued his leisurely entrance. Currents of passion bolt from each small push forward shoot straight from his groin, up his spine, and down to his toes all at once. Felt his arms ache from the pressure of not moving as his body demanded he buck. Felt his system going into sensual overload. Felt his cock, his skin, his body beg to be touched, to be caressed. Plain, pure, simple...need.

Daniel nearly screamed in relief as Adam brought the pad of one finger lightly across the top of his member. His body responded by thrusting against Adam's questing hand, only to have the tip of his erection brush against the cool sheets. Adam pulled at his hips drawing him back up, embedding himself fully within Daniel's in one swift motion. Moaning, Daniel rocked his hips, wanting more of the exquisite torture. 

"Yes....that's it. Feel." Methos murmured near Daniel's exposed nape. He nibbled on the skin scrapped raw from their earlier play. Daniel shuddered in his arms. Methos pulled out taking his time, wanting to feel each beat, every pulse as Daniel contracted his muscles in pleasure. The balance was precarious, thrust forward, slow, sensual withdrawal. Again, and again. 

Pain and pleasure blended into one. Intense...that was the only way to describe it. Adam still wouldn't let him touch himself. Frustrated, Daniel groaned as the extreme sensations infused his body. So much, too much....then Adam hit his prostate. 

Methos took pity on Daniel and took hold of his cock. Daniel nearly leapt off the bed at the touch, Methos barely able to hang on to the writhing man. Steely muscles encased his engorged organ to the point of pain. 'Yes!' As Daniel relaxed slightly, he plunged forward, hard and deep, his body taxed beyond its ability to hold off anymore. 

Daniel pushed back, equally hard and then stroked into the unyielding hand encasing his member. The twin sensations fueled an already over sensitized system, and Daniel came. 

Deep, loud moans erupted from both men. 

Daniel's pulsing, constricting channel grabbed Methos, driving him onward toward his own completion. Warm liquid spurted over his hand, Methos refusing to let go as Daniel writhed in his arms. With one last deep thrust, Methos joined Daniel in orgasm. 

The men fell forward onto the bed, harsh breathing the only sound in the tent. 

Methos pulled off the condom, and tossed it on the floor. He flung his arm above his head, willing his heart to slow down. It had been a couple of years for him too. Languor stole over his body, dragging his lids lower. 

Blood pounding, Daniel rolled onto his side facing Adam. Adam sprawled bonelessly on the bed beside him, looking totally sated. 'Well, that answers that question.' Daniel grinned to himself. He moved closer, resting his head on Adam's chest. 

Wrapping an arm around the warm body, Methos pulled Daniel in closer. He tucked the archeologist under his chin, preparing to drift off into slumber when a languid 'Thank you' drifted in the air. 

"Anytime." Methos smiled and fell asleep.


	7. The Longest Mile

~~0~~

Chapter Seven: The Longest Mile

Duncan

~~-~~

Immortality...it is simply the art of learning how to sleep with your enemy. It is an enemy of self, an enemy of birth, a threat to everything you hold dear. Yet still you walk forward, embracing what you can of life. Refuse to give in to the hollow emptiness that beckons at each of your companion's untimely ends. An incessant snare set forth at first breath which can only be broken by the giving over of one's self.  
  
It is a life lived with one foot in the living and one foot in the dead. An existence of shadows, of deadly treacherous games where no one wins. It is enough, sometimes, to walk away, knowing you live. That the one you left behind is no more. And sometimes, it is enough to have lived just once, never mind waking up to live twice.   
  
Can you smell the scent of blood left at your passing? The disparaging cry cursing you with their last breath, as you wake whole and walk from the battlefield never to look back. You get to live and you get to listen while they die, their life force sinking into the rapidly fertile grounds. Their screams haunt your nights years, centuries later, catching you off guard.  
  
Then the darkness surrounds you, making even the most religious of you capable of falling into the pit. A razor's edge walked with fine steps, slicing and marking the blooded fabric of your life. You cannot know the temptation of falling under the black spell, for once where there lived beauty now reigns a regret of living hell.  
  
~~~  
  
Gathering my courage, I stepped into the bar unsure of my welcome. Surprised, I noted how little had been changed over the last two years. All as if time had stopped, waiting.  
  
Joe's was empty, as I expected, but hidden within its folds rose images of those days gone past. The ghosts of what had been. What would have been. What might have been had I stayed, all played out on a screen of dust and light filtering in from the open door.  
  
Methos blithely raising his glass, mocking my follies yet again.  
  
Joe, on stage, his guitar humming to life as he strummed the mournful melody.  
  
Methos tossing his arm on my shoulder as he leaned in to whisper a joke, then laughing at the confusion evident on my face.  
  
Joe wiping down the bar, laughing with Methos because *he* had already figured out the Old Man's game.  
  
Methos his hand on my arm, hazel eyes intense...  
  
The might have been's were abruptly interrupted by a half croaked, half startled groan.."Mac!?"  
  
"Hey, Joe." A huge smile broke over his face, and I supposed it matched my own. Grabbing him in a big bear hug, I nearly lifted him off the floor.  
  
"When did you get into town?" Sinking onto the nearest bar stool, I let the familiar tones wash over me. I was bone tired, needed to hear the sound of his voice, watch as he ambled about the bar. He placed a beer in front of me and we fell into the easy pattern of catching up, chatting like old friends.   
  
"Few hours ago. Needed to settle a few business arrangements, and here I am."  
  
"So, where were you?? Can I ask, as a friend."   
  
"Here, there. There mostly."  
  
Joe slapped his leg and just shook his head at me, snickering.   
  
"What?"  
  
"Mac, you hung around the Old Man way too long."   
  
"What'd you mean?"  
  
"You sounded just like him there for a second. Something only Methos would say."   
  
It was a bittersweet comment. Past tense. I wondered how much longer I could avoid this particular subject.  
  
"I just needed to clear my head, Joe. Sort some things out. Spent some time up at the cabin. Visited old friends. Not anywhere in particular."  
  
"What kind of things?"  
  
"About who I am, now. Those kinds of things." I give him my most outrageous grin but Joe doesn't fall for it, not for one second. Chuckling, I bring the cold beer back to my mouth and swallow, giving myself some more time to work out a better answer. Joe is still smarter than he looks. There are times when he *knows* me better than I know myself.  
  
"And?"  
  
"I still don't know , Joe. But it doesn't hurt as much as before." Tossing back the rest of the beer, Joe didn't push for an answer but I could see the question in his eyes. 'What doesn't hurt?' His question echoes Sean's, his voice rising from the depths within, 'Yes, Duncan. Why does it hurt? What hurts? Do you even know?'   
  
His voice has haunted my steps for the last two years, yet I came here. With a purpose. I had someone to find, because he knew the answers to these questions. Could help me cut straight to the heart of the matter and let nightmares settle, find peace in the darkness.  
  
"How do they do it, Joe? Those old immortals, like Methos and Amanda. How do they live not just for centuries, but for thousands of years?"  
  
"Got me, Mac."   
  
The weight settled on my shoulders again. The oppressive need to just fall, give in to the pain. Knowing I had avoided, ignored and simply tried not to think about this one question for as long as I could, I asked.   
  
"Where is the Old Man, anyway? Is he still in town?"   
  
"No, and I don't think he's coming back."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Well you know Methos just about as well as I do, Mac. What does he have to come back for? What's here?"   
  
"He's your friend! Of course he'd come back to see you if nothing else, Joe." I couldn't imagine Methos just forgetting about Joe. It didn't seem possible.  
  
"It's just a feeling, Duncan." Joe shrugged nonchalantly, as if it really didn't matter, but Duncan could see that it did.  
  
"He said good-bye, didn't he?"  
  
"He said, 'Take care, Joe', clasped my arm, and walked away. That's about as close to saying good-bye as the Old Man will ever get." Joe laughed, this time with fondness for the memory.   
  
"Do you know where he went?"  
  
"Egypt." Joe chuckled again.   
  
"Egypt?" Shocked, I just looked at Joe like he was crazy. Why would Methos tell Joe where he was going? It didn't make sense. It wasn't his style to leave a trail. And one so easily followed.   
  
"It seems a young archaeologist with what the Old Man terms 'a highly questionable background' is digging in one of his former haunts...."  
  
For the first time, a true smile slid over my face, and eagerly I leaned forward to catch all the details.  
  
It *was* just like old times.

~~~

Life is bound by journeys, each a step toward some unknown destination.   
  
It is a river which continuously flows. The gentle trickle from melting mountain tops giving way to a budding stream. A waterway tossing and thrashing upon the rocks, finally ending the mad rush to kiss the sea as life finds its crescendo.  
  
From there each drop is gathered into the massive folds of an imperial wave, to be battered and tossed upon the shore. And the struggle begins anew to reach back to that place of encompassing warmth. The place at journey's end where we find meaning for ourselves in the struggle, before we are lost yet again in the cycle of living, of dying.   
  
But then, there has ever been more lost than is ever found in this world. 


	8. Tell Me Why

~~0~~

Chapter Eight: Tell Me Why

~~-~~

Daniel awoke to find himself wrapped in Adam's arms. He sighed, lazily caressing Adam's chest with his fingers, lost in thought. Last night had been pure bliss. He felt - sated, the tensions of the last four years finally appeased. 'Damn, but it felt good, only - Geez, he was back to that again. The past is the past; let it lay, Daniel'.  
  
Daniel failed to notice when his bed partner woke under the absent stroking of his hand. Methos saw *that* look in Daniel's eyes again. The hunger was gone, but the underlying want was still there. He knew that look. Adam had worn it a time or two himself; simply needing to forget, but knowing you can't. Not when you already belonged to someone else.  
  
Methos rolled over onto his side, turning Daniel with him. Smiling his 'Good Morning', he pressed a light kiss on Daniel's lips.  
  
"So, what was his name?"  
  
"Wha...what?"  
  
"The real reason you are out in the middle of this godforsaken desert digging in the sand. *His* name."  
  
"Oh! Er,...Jack." Daniel looked a bit askance. "You knew?"  
  
"Well I don't suppose you're actually mooning over that piece of rock in the sky every night."  
  
Daniel chuckled. "No, I don't think so."  
  
"So why did you leave? Married?"  
  
"No, worse. Military." He responded with a grimace.  
  
"Ah." Adam toyed with Daniel's hair, sliding the silky blond strands through his fingers.  
  
"Why are you here, Adam?"  
  
"Finishing my Masters. This was an elective. Sounded interesting, a chance to see some of the history I study up front." He shrugged carelessly, as if it wasn't important.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Will you go back?"  
  
"I don't know." Daniel rolled over on his back to look up at the ceiling. "It depends."  
  
"On what?"  
  
"Look, I don't want to talk about it, Adam. Just drop it, okay?" Daniel rose from the bed, slipping over Adam to get to his feet. He was already off balance. He *really* didn't need to discuss Jack on top of everything else. What the hell was he thinking?  
  
That was the problem, Daniel decided. He hadn't thought at all, just let go and had his way with whatever warm, willing body that had come along. He had used Adam, and Adam hadn't seemed to mind. 

That bothered him.   
  
"Okay," Methos held his hands up. "I won't mention Jack's name again."  
  
Daniel cast a murderous glare over his shoulder at him and pulled a clean pair of shorts from the trunk. Methos just rolled over on his side, grinning deviously and watched Daniel thrust first one foot, then the other into his tattered clothing. A gust of wind brushed over Methos' bare skin drawing his attention from Daniel's delicious behind to the tent's entrance. In the doorway stood a man obviously shocked to find a naked man in Daniel's space.  
  
"Oh, Daniel?" Methos questioned innocently, never taking his eyes off of the stranger.  
  
"What?" Daniel, still peeved, was searching through his trunk for some clean socks, and never noticed the visitor.  
  
"*Your* Jack wouldn't happen to be about, oh, six feet, early forties, grey hair, well built....would he?" Methos didn't really expect an answer. The man in the doorway said it all. At the first mention of his name, Jack stiffened ready to tear into this stranger laying so wantonly in Daniel's bed.  
  
"Adam." Daniel growled, forcing his attention back to the sprawling man. "I told you I didn't want to talk..." He trailed off noticing that Adam was intently watching something else. He spun to see what Adam found so interesting, only to find Jack standing in his doorway.  
  
"Jack?!"  
  
"Daniel." Jack nodded his head in Daniel's direction, his tone subdued.  
  
"I believe that's my cue to leave." Scooping up his towel from where it was hastily tossed last night, Methos sauntered over to the front of the tent, and paused just as he reached the other man. The dark brown eyes regarded him shrewdly not trusting 'Adam', for a second. The man reminded Methos of someone from his own past; someone else who used to be able to see right through his schemes.  
  
"Pity."  
  
"Excuse me?" The cultured tones really rubbed Jack the wrong way.  
  
"I said 'pity'."  
  
"I heard you the first time. Care to enlighten me?"  
  
"Pity you're already taken." Laughing at Jack's indignant expression, Methos walked out, wrapping the towel around his waist. "Do have fun, Daniel," he called as he left. The words lay heavily in the still morning air. 

Jack keep a sharp eye on the other man as he left, running the brief conversation over again in his mind.

"Wanna tell me what that was all about?"

"No". Daniel folded his arms over his chest. "Why are you here, Jack?"


	9. Rent to Own

~~0~~

Chapter Nine: Rent to Own

~~-~~

Between Heaven and Hell, there lies a kind of twilight. A savage land rent in limbo where the gods battle laughing at the senseless scurrying of tiny insects. Where the right to own your own life is paid in an installment plan until you finally succumb to their will.  
  
A relentless dance to the beat of pagan drums that steals all feeling because the struggle becomes too much. Too hard to let yourself breathe the pain, to drop the walls, free the guardians at the gate. It takes a unique kind courage you don't possess; the ability to forgive yourself and let loose the dreams. The 'hat of broken dreams' has become filled with holes, the hopes drifting away one by one. Smoke and mirrors.  
  
Feeling nothing is better. Falling into your work, 'getting a life', drinking to oblivion on the nights when nothing but the bottle can chase the demons away. Because if you don't, the hurt sets in, drawing all strength, drowning you in the screams. A blood pudding from which there is no escape.  
  
'It ain't nothing.'  
  
Has Fate stopped laughing her head off yet?  
  
~~~  
  
"You're going to stand there and just..." Jack stopped, helpless to voice what he wanted to say. Frustrated, he thrust his hands through his hair. This was not going well. This wasn't the Daniel he knew. This man was a stranger to him. Someone he didn't know at all. Harder. Older. Closed.  
  
"Just what, Jack?" Assessing, judging, a prism casting its colours on a web; each one examined and then set aside as unimportant. "Just in my tent dressing?" Casual, cynical. "Just had a good time last night?" Blithely bitter. Resentful of the intrusion. "Just what exactly?" Anger.  
  
At him? Jack was speechless against the emotional onslaught being directed his way. His fault? For what? Where had the gentle, passionate man who he had known, the one he had spied mere minutes before, gone?  
  
Daniel waited for some response. He barely held in the bitter chuckle, biting it back with effort. What did Jack expect? Him to fall at his feet, grateful that at last Jack remembered he was alive? No, it would take more than a simple 'hello' this time. It would take words, lots of them. Actions, deeds.   
  
Jack had nothing to say. Daniel turned away in disgust. "Never mind, I've got work to do."  
  
"Daniel. Wait! I...uh..." Jack struggled to say something. Anything to breech the gap that was widening with every word between them.  
  
"Anytime you are ready."  
  
He cringed at the embittered tone. "Look, I...uh..." Jack tried again. "What happened to you, Daniel?"  
  
"What? You mean after I left? This and that. Or maybe you're looking for something that doesn't exist anymore. Just what are you looking for here, Jack? I really need some sort of a clue."  
  
"Cat got your tongue?" Daniel flung himself onto the cot.  
  
"Uh...You're, um...." Jack nodded his head in the direction of the bed. Way to go Jack! Why not just slap him and get it over with?  
  
"You can't even say it, can you? The word is gay...G...A...Y. And the answer is no. Not that it matters."  
  
"But..." Now he was confused. Jack glanced toward the open flap of the tent. Nothing leapt out at him. He was at a loss. Again.  
  
Daniel sighed. "Bisexual. You know, swing both ways? What. Do. You. Want? Why are you here?" Any hopes of eventually salvaging their friendship fled. Daniel saw it written all over Jack's body; anger, disgust, and something else, pity. That was just too much. "You know where to find me." Rising, Daniel grabbed his hat and stalked out of the tent nearly running over Sam in the process.  
  
"Daniel? Colonel?" Sam stumbled out of Daniel's way. "Was it something I said?"  
  
"Not now, Sam," He growled as he passed.  
  
Patting Sam's shoulder, Jack watched the retreating figure stomp his way across the compound.   
  
"We've got our work cut out for us, Major." A sharp eye missed nothing as he kept vigil. "I blew it. Big time." He sighed. "Come on. Lets go rescue him before he hurts himself."  
  
"Um, sir? Not that I'm saying you did anything wrong...but what did I miss?"  
  
"When I figure out where all the land mines are, I'll be sure to let you know, Major. Until then...." There was more going on here than Jack understood.  
  
"Not quite sure I follow you, Sir."  
  
A red flush crept up Jack's neck as he turned slightly away from Sam. "I...uh...um...I ahwalked in on a rather 'delicate' moment."  
  
"Oh!"  
  
"Yeah. Oh."  
  
Sam looked around confused yet again. "But, sir. I didn't...I mean there aren't...oh. Um..." Sam turned a critical eye on the Colonel. "You made an ass of yourself." Something else clicked. 

"What?"   
  
"Nothing. That's one mine field you are going to have clean on your own."  
  
"Sam..."  
  
"Nope."  
  
"You can't leave me hanging like this."  
  
"That, Sir, if you don't mind my saying so, is part of the problem. You figure it out. Me? I didn't hear a thing." She moved sideways out of Jack's reach. "I didn't see a thing." She snorted. "I know nothing."  
  
"Carter...," Jack warned.  
  
She stood attention..."Serial number 563-92..." 

Major!"  
  
Sam wandered off still repeating the rules of the Geneva Convention.  
  
Twice in one day! And it wasn't even noon! Could this day get any worse?  
  
The sound of rotor blades interrupted the bustle of the waking camp. WhatWho in the hell? 

Daniel heard the helicopter about the same time as the rest of the camp. There were only two reasons aircraft came out this way...for an emergency or because some stuck upon himself official deemed it necessary to add further problems to his already overburdened schedule. Daniel sighed with resignation and headed toward the helopad. He mourned the loss of his morning coffee and waited, Adam joining him at his side.  
  
"Who is it this time?"  
  
"I have no idea. No advance warning what so ever." Daniel kicked at the dirt. "You wouldn't happen to have any hard liquor hidden around here, would you? I suddenly feel the need to get drunk. Really drunk."  
  
"I'm afraid not. Things didn't go as planned with the Colonel?"  
  
The small baleful snort was barely heard above the rotor blades.  
  
"I'll take that as a noooo..." The buzz of a nearby immortal cut off anything else Methos had been about to say. "I...uh...think...ah...I'll go make sure..."  
  
"Oh no you don't, Adam!" Daniel grabbed his arm before he could make good his escape. "If I have to listen to this pretentious snob, I want back up. And you are it."  
  
The emblem of the embassy of the United States was ablaze in a silvery glow as the helicopter landed. Methos was caught between a rock and hard place. His sword was back in his tent and between Daniel's firm grip on his arm and the surrounding crowd, there was no way out. If he managed to survive the night, Daniel was going pay for this. Somehow.  
  
Jack watched the by play between the two men with growing unease. Daniel was pleased to have his friend nearby. And that made him angry in a way he didn't want to look too hard at just now. He was so busy studying the two men that he missed the tall, dark-haired man alight from the aircraft. What he didn't miss was the sudden stiffening of one of them. The way that Daniel touched Adam's arm. Or the way in which Daniel laughingly pleaded with his friend. Something reserved in the past for Jack, or Teal'c or Sam. The way in which this man was free of the anger that was now directed at Jack.  
  
'It wasn't fair.' But what in life is? 

Daniel strode forward dragging Adam along to meet whoever this way.   
  
Stuffing his fists in his pockets, Jack was about to walk away when Daniel's lover froze in place.

"Dr. Jackson?" The man extended his hand. "I'm Duncan MacLeod."   
  
"Mac!?"  
  
Laughing mahogany eyes turned in 'Adam's' direction. "Nice to see I haven't lost my touch, Old Man."  
  
"Daniel? You knew about this?" 

"Well...ah...yeah, but not like you think." Daniel shrugged. "Mr. MacLeod wrote me several letters. He said he was interested in one of the antiquities from the dig."

Methos turned back and forth between Daniel and the Highlander.  
  
Oh yeah, Fate had his number. And she was toying with him...*again*. Holding a frosty cold one underneath his nose and then running away....snickering...evilly.  
  
"Once, just once, " Methos muttered as he marched away from them, "I wish Ares was my patron saint."  
  
Mac burst out laughing.  
  
"You are *so* dead, Highlander." Revenge glittered in his eyes.  
  
"You know..." Daniel stated the obvious, "I get the feeling you two know each other."  
  
"Oh yes, *Dr.* Jackson. Quite well." Methos snorted.  
  
Daniel cringed at the promise of retribution in Adam's voice. Chuckling, Duncan dragged the sputtering Archaeologist after the world's most elusive (and exasperating) immortal.  
  
~~~   
  
Sometimes its better when our pasts stay buried.   
  
Then again, sometimes in the inky light of the pre-dawn, we see our dreams come alive once more.   
  
And that gives us one more thread to hold on to.  
  
~~~  
Methos was furious. 'Looking for an antiquity' my ass. What was the Highlander up to? What was he doing here? 

"Well, Mac. You found me. Congratulations. And to what do I owe this honour?"

"Just thought I'd drop in and see an old friend."

"You never 'just drop in', MacLeod."

"This time I did."

"Why?"

"Because I felt like it. I haven't seen you in over two years, Methos."

"The name is Adam," Methos hissed. "And don't forget it, Highlander."

"Okay, Adam"

"Feeling your age?"

"Something like that."

"Well, I don't have time to *reminisce* right now. I'm busy. Why don't you make an appointment with my secretary and I'll get back to you. In say, in a century or two. If you're still alive."

"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have walked off like that."

"No, you shouldn't have. But then again, I'm not your keeper, nor your lover. No, I'm just someone you know. Oh that's right! You don't know who or what I am. You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"Methos"

"I told you, MacLeod. My name is Adam. Adam Pierson in case you've forgotten. Methos is dead. Buried. Gone. Like I want you to be. Right now.

~~~

Jack spied Daniel's lover digging in one of the grids practically spitting at the newest arrival to camp. 'So, that's the way it was.' The man had a string of lovers all over the world. One of them, not too happy at the moment. The tall foreigner stalked off, leaving Jack free to make some inquiries of his own. 

"What's Daniel mean to you?"

Methos relaxed. It wasn't Duncan. With a sardonic grin, he continued working on brushing the dirt off of a piece of pottery he was currently removing from the ground. "He's a friend. What's Daniel to *you*?"

"None of your damn business."

"Ooohtouchy, touchy. "

"I'm warning you. Stay away from Daniel. "

"Or what, Jack? You'll shoot me? I'm *so* scared."

"Look Lothario, I don't know what your game is, but you keep Daniel out of it."

"What makes you so sure I'm playing a game? Maybe I just like his company."

"Oh, the same way you like that long-haired bureaucrat?"

"No, the two are entirely separate *issues*. If you want Daniel, you're going to have to fight for him."

"Daniel is just my friend."

"So you've said before. Not that I believe you."

"Believe what you want. Just stay away from him."

"No."

This was too much. Jack paced around the grid. He had to get rid of this man.

"So...what do you say, Jack? Are you up to the challenge?" 

Jack studied the man for some sort of trickery. He had something up his sleeve, but Jack didn't know what. His boneless sprawl gave little away. 

"You want to know, don't you?" Methos leaned forward drawing Jack into his carefully spun web. "Want to know what it feels like to have him writhing under you. What his skin feels like. How his moans fill the room. You don't fool me. I know your type."

The words drifted over Jack, reminding him of dreams he'd forgotten. Dreams he repressed. Things that could never be. 

"Well?"

Jack scowled at the annoying man. "If that's what it takes to make you disappear."  
  
"Now what would be the fun in that? Let the games begin." Methos pulled the pottery from the ground carefully, and rose. "Oh, by the way. Daniel will be on the dunes tonight. He's there every night." And with a secretive smile, Methos sauntered to the tables, placing his find with the rest. 

Jack knew he had just been dismissed.

~~~

Daniel sat hunched over his computer inputting the latest results of the carbon dating lab testing. They had found several more objects, mostly pottery today, all from the same time period...a little over 5000 years ago. The book, resting on the table caught his attention again. Perfectly preserved and for the moment sealed against damage from the sun, wind and elements. 

The shock of finding it ran through him again. Latin. But nothing in the dig matched. Nothing. And they were looking hard. Hieroglyphics abounded, but nothing in any form of Latin. What was the book doing here? And how had it managed to get buried here? Who wrote it? What planet did they come from? 

At this point, Daniel didn't have any doubt that the book was alien in origin. Latin wouldn't appear for another thousand years, so that left, who? The Rhodes Scholars most likely, but what happened to them? He couldn't find a reference in Budge or Faulkner. He'd have to dig deeper into the historical records. There had to be something, somewhere. 

Frustrated, Daniel rolled his shoulders back, loosening his muscles. A hand crept up along his neck massaging at the same time.

'This sitting on a box thing sucks.' Sore and tired, he glared at the world. Looking out over the camp he imagined that this morning would disappear. That Jack and Sam were happily traipsing across the Universe and that he was snuggled in his tent with his oh so willing bed mate.

Sighing, he rose from his task and headed for the dunes. He needed to think, desperately think.

'I want you to come back with me.' Jack's words repeated in his head. Just that, after Daniel's little outburst this morning, that's all Jack had left to say. Caught momentarily distracted at the dig, Jack touched his arm, spoke those fateful words and walked back to base camp.

Go back? Could he really do that? Walk back into the SGC as if he'd never left. Work with Jack every day? See him, hear him, smell that spicy scent that he used? The laughter in his voice as he teased Sam, or Teal'c, or himself for that matter? Those small touches on his arm, or ruffling his hair? Could he survive being near Jack again, and knowing it wasn't close enough? And what about Jack? Would Jack be able to live with knowing about this side of his personality? Could Jack still work with him? How was this going to change their relationship?

"Thought I'd find you up here."

"Adam!"

"Rough day?"

"You could say that." It was a bitter, mirthless laugh that spilled forth into the night.

"Life's short, Daniel. Don't waste it."

Daniel turned on his friend, his brilliant blue eyes flashing in anger. 

"You think I don't know that, Adam?" He hissed. "I'm here in the middle of this God forsaken desert just to feel alive again. To feel like I'm accomplishing something. Doing something that will mean something to anyone in the years to come. I'm tired of being shot, shocked, burned, and beat up. I've lost my wife, any chance of happiness with her people, people I had considered my own. The first family I've had since my parents died. I've lost her child to the fucking universe. And to top everything off, I love a man who is oblivious to that fact and committed to being straight whether he feels anything for me at all or not." His hands flew around in the air, "And not one 'thank you', 'we need you', 'oh great job by the way, Jackson'."

"So you tell me, Adam. Exactly what part of my life am I wasting?" With that Daniel stood. 

"Daniel wait..." Shit!

He turned, so angry he nearly ran over Jack who had heard the entire thing and slid on the sand. 'Oh, no, no, no, no, no.' Arms flailing, Daniel hit the ground hard, Jack falling down next to him; his feet having become entangled with Daniel's.

Leaning on his arm, Jack looked over at Daniel, his eyes incredibly sad. "So...that's why you left."

"I'm sorry, Jack. You were never meant to hear that." Daniel held his breath. 

"Which part? The part about you loosing your family? The part about you feeling unwanted at work? Or the part about you..."

"Loving you?"

"Yeah."

"All of it."

"Why?"

"Look, it's long and complicated, Jack."

"Yeah, well. We do need you, Daniel. Especially right now."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because?"

"Yeah, because." Jack looked over at Adam significantly. "We need you to do what you always do. Put us back together."

"Oh."

"You did do a great job, Daniel. The best." Jack patted him on the shoulder and walked away.

"Damn." Daniel fell back against the sand, pounding his head on the soft earth. 

"You can say that again."

"Damn, damn, damn, damn."

"I said 'again', not reduce your vocabulary to one word."

"Only you, Adam. " Daniel snickered, gazing up at the stars. "Only you."

"Well, the cats out of the bag, so to speak."

"You could say that."

"I just did."

Chuckling, Daniel rolled over on his stomach. "I swear you are trying to make me laugh on purpose."

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

"So...?"

"What?"

"This morning, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing!"

"No, nothing. I refused to discuss it."

"I take it your Colonel didn't react kindly to that."

"That's putting it mildly. You can't tell me the whole camp didn't heart that argument?"

"Ah, intrepid assistant that I am, I hastened the troops into the site dragging along that delightful creature the Colonel brought with him. I figured time alone was in order."

"uh, thanks." Daniel blushed, half in embarrassment, half in pleasure.

"So, what's he doing here?"

"He was sent to 'collect' me. Seems our book is of interest to them." Daniel hurled a rock into the night sky. 

"And you want to do what?"

'Oh, I don't know what I want, Adam. I was just starting to get comfortable here. Felt like I was accomplishing something, and here comes Jack, not as a friend but because he has to." 

"And the book?"

"Well, if I do go, would you be willing to come along? I mean, I know I can translate it, but if the book's that important, you'd be the more likely candidate. Ancient Latin is like a second language to you. I've seen your journals. Half the thing is written in it. Which I've been meaning to ask you about."

"Can you think of a better way to retain your language skills?"

Laughing..."No."

"So, which branch of the service do you work for? Or should I say what government project?"

Daniel sputtered, "I, uh, can't say."

"I've been around long enough to know how these *secrets* of government work." Methos smirked at the double meaning within his own words.

"I have to talk to Jack first. And that's not going to be fun. After today, if he looks at me I'll be lucky. Let alone, let me drag you along."

"Sitting here isn't going to accomplish anything."

"I'm trying to decide what to say."

"Well, I think it's about time you tried talking to *him*."

"You're right. See you later, Adam?"

"Sure. I think I'll go find that mate of yours, Samantha. Has such a lovely ring to it, don't you think?"

"I think Sam would die laughing if she heard you say that."

"Hmm...not the romantic type?"

"Too dedicated to her job." Daniel grinned. "Oh, and Adam?"

"Yes?"

"You never said yes or no?"

"No, I didn't, did I."

~~~


End file.
